


Musings of Ereri

by kalligraphy



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst, Goth Levi, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Self-Hatred, Short Stories, alternate universe situations, different situations, levi is sassy watch out, like really bad angst, minor gore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-03
Updated: 2015-03-05
Packaged: 2018-02-07 06:29:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1888464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalligraphy/pseuds/kalligraphy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Wow, Eren and Levi would be perfect for this situation."</p><p>A drabble/short-story Ereri compilation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Condoms & Cigarettes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Levi buys condoms and cigarettes.

The bell chimed as the glass door was pushed open, letting the warm air of summer invade the crisp air conditioning of the gas station. Business tonight was slow, so the sleepy woman behind the counter looked up with slight interest in her dark eyes, assessing the customer that just entered. He looked somewhat pissed and irritated, muttering something to himself as he headed straight for the fourth aisle, seeming to know exactly what he was searching for and where it was. The quaint older cashier sunk back down against the wall beside her when he disappeared from her view around the obstructing cigarette display.

                               ---

Levi didn’t give the cashier so much as a sideways glance when he walked in. He was annoyed, mostly with the vibrant-eyed idiot he considered his newest catch waiting for him back at the kid’s apartment. Well, he wasn’t a kid really; he wasn’t jailbait, but he still acted like a fucking child so calling him ‘kid’ seemed appropriate. Even more so with how forgetful the little shit was.

Like forgetting to purchase some fucking condoms when his dresser drawer ran out.

 Levi sighed with an aggravated demeanor. He’d had to purchase tampons for women before. It didn’t bother him. He’d had to purchase condoms and cheap lube for quick fucks before. It didn’t bother him. But never had he had to abruptly stop his sexual prowess, think of Betty White’s tits to calm his stiff, redress himself with all the clothing he had just thrown off in a lusty haze just moments ago and drive to the nearest gas station 4 miles away in his partner’s shitstain pickup all because said partner forgot to buy some more rubbers.

 Most guys probably wouldn’t have gone through the trouble. They probably would have just shrugged it off and bare-backed it. But Levi wasn’t a fucking idiot. He wasn’t gonna risk getting some nasty dick disease all because he wanted to blow some sexual steam. Until he was sure Eren was disease free by recent test for it, they were gonna use condoms whether the shit liked it or not. The kid could have 47 genital diseases for all he knew (which would be fucking disgusting and most obviously a deal-breaker, no matter how easy on the eyes the shit was), but Levi wouldn’t catch any of them and still draw out the pleasure he sought via a small circle of thin rubber.

 So yes, Levi had gotten up and left to buy a box of condoms. No matter how pouty the brat’s expression was as he sat up on the bed in the nude, squirming in irritation.

  _Well, it_ was _his own fault._

It had pissed Levi off, yeah. But that only meant he could deliver a punishment when he returned and knowing that eased his frayed mind somewhat.

 If there was a good thing in the situation besides the potential of watching Eren scream and making him beg out pleas for more stimulation, it was that Levi had been to this gas station he didn’t know how many times for rubbers and cigarettes, so he knew where both were by heart. They actually had the halfway decent American Spirit cigs he tolerated, so he didn’t have to settle for cheap shit like Sonoma or nasty shit like Camel or Marlboro at most of the other local stations.

 Speaking of cigarettes, he was running low. Perhaps he’d throw a box of the perique blend in with the box of Durex ultra-thin condoms he was snagging from the small selection on the shelf in front of him. The man made a disgusted face at the glaring logo from Trojan, remembering when that would have been the box he would have selected back in his teenage years. The only two rubber brands young shits seemed to know these days were Trojan and Magnum. They were shit brands and proved as such. As soon as Levi had seen the distinct portrait silhouette of some Spartan guy on the package of the first condom of Eren’s they’d used, he’d trashed that crap right away and pulled out one of his own. The lecture after the sex proved to have been effective, for Levi hadn’t seen a single Trojan laying anywhere around Eren’s apartment within the past two weeks.

 Exiting the aisle, Levi tossed the box in his hand on the counter in front of the humble cashier. He tugged his walled from his back pocket and glanced up as the woman eyed his purchase then blinked and looked slightly uncomfortable. Her frail fingers wrapped around it as she rang it up while Levi asked for a pack of American Spirit, causing her to look up from her ministrations at the register. She asked for identification and he flashed his license from his wallet. A small nod was given in return and the woman quietly asked what he preferred.

 “The perique blend, please.” Levi answered, pulling out a 10 bill from a crevice in the worn leather wallet. Damn mildly expensive cigarettes. Still, they did their job.

 After the woman relayed his total and placed the items in a small plastic bag, she began to count back his change, a small smile touching her pursed mouth. “You are a very considerate man for using those.” She eyed the bag and Levi wasn’t sure if she was referring to the cigarettes or rubbers. “Most men risk the pregnancy just for momentary pleasure.” Her expression soured lightly. What a creepy-ass old lady. Is that what she told to every guy that came in and bought condoms? Was she the pregnancy police?

 Amused thoughts fluttered about Levi’s mind. He tossed the change she’d handed him in the tip bucket beside the register, and stuffed his receipt in the bag, snagging it off the counter. With the signature expressionless face of his, he looked at her on the way out the door and said “Oh, they’re not for fear of pregnancy. I just don’t want to catch some nasty-ass dick disease from him when I stick my meat wand into his beautiful love cavern of an asshole.”

 Then he walked out, noting the expression on her face.

 Yeah, tipping her had been a good idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yo, i'm kat, (but you can call me kitty or w/e) and this is my first fic on archive. i guess it doesn't really classify as a fic, but still, i'm posting it as one and stuff.
> 
> anyways, so yeah, basically this fic is me seeing or thinking of things and going "holy shit, eren and levi need to be in that situation" then going home and writing it and laughing to myself because wow, normal situations can be funny as fuck sometimes. especially with levi in them. 
> 
> but anywho, i actually have like 3 other short stories as of right now and like 4 ideas for others, but i don't wanna bulk post as of yet. this chapter wasn't gonna be my first chap for this, it was gonna be something that actually had eren and levi together in it, but somehow my computer deleted it and yeah, i have to rewrite it. it won't be too hard, it wasn't too long (¬‿¬)
> 
> also i don't really know how often i'll update this, but within the first few weeks it should be pretty steady (maybe a chapter a day? :o), it all depends on my motivation to write. i figured it shouldnt be too hard because they are short stories, not a whopping actual fic, and it's healthy for a writer to write something every day, so why not include my babs eren and levi in those daily writings? uvu 
> 
> oh and sorry not sorry for the use of meat wand and love cavern I HAD TO OK + i know levi would never ever say that, but oh well its not aiming to be canon (though im trying to keep personalities i guess, except levi has a little more pizzazz)
> 
> i also apologize if you find the standard cliche things that other ereri fics have (like levi being a grump 24/7 and eren's only name being "brat") but i'm trying to stray away from those and explore other things in levi and eren both other than bright eyes, anger, shit jokes and no emotion (◡‿◡✿)
> 
> OH and i'll add tags as they are needed and up ratings when /those/ chapters come b/c yes they will exist because wow i definitely have kink headcanons about these two and yes you horndogs will get smut eventually and that's when i'll up the ratings but i will obviously let people know when a smut chap is coming up just in case there are those that don't prefer to read it and come for the shiggles and fluff
> 
> anyways so that's that and i really feel like i have more to say but??? i can't think of it rn i guess. ummm i could always use more prompts so if you have an ereri prompt, pls send it to me on tumblr! (vixen-prince.tumblr.com) if i'm feelin' it, i will definitely write it and post it to here and if you give me a name or don't send it anonymously i will let people know it was based off your prompt or its for you or something (◕‿◕✿) 
> 
> oh and you may think its dumb but at the end of every end note i'm gonna give the word count for the chap because i'm weird so the word count for today's chap isssssss ... 1,040! ye what a great, sort of not short, short story. uvu
> 
> so that's basically it, feel free to leave feedback or lemme know if i made any grammar mistakes so i can go and fix them uvu also follow the fic if you like it because there's def more where this came from (also im so so r ry for this long ass note wow)
> 
> \- kat
> 
> p.s. if you think i should just go ahead and up this to m rated, please lemme know. i wasn't sure with the cussing and the use of meat wand and love cavern and basically just dick talk in general ^^' ALSO if there is any tags that you think i should add for whatever reason, please lemme know


	2. Wings of Freedom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Levi and Eren discover intimacy without physicality.

“Tell me what you want me to do.”

 Eren’s breath snagged in his throat as he painted Levi’s body with his eyes, slowly moving down the other man’s lithe physique. The expression on the pallid face before him was expectant and open, something Eren had never seen before. Levi _trusted him._ Levi was opening up to him, giving Eren a piece of himself that would be Eren’s alone and nobody else’s to see or have. Levi’s dry, pert lips parted and he spoke once more.

 “Eren, command me.”

 The look the smaller man gave him was challenging yet vulnerable now, as he stood in the middle of the stuffy room, toes picking at the threads of the rug beneath them. He wore only light blue jeans and a white button-up shirt now. He was barefoot and his hair was freshly trimmed; it looked crisp and like ink against the white paper canvas that was his skin.

 Eren was breathless. He couldn’t think of the last time someone had given him such freedom, such _faith_ in him _._ His fingers twiddled at the hem of his shirt in a nervous manner and he sucked a deep breath in through his nostrils then looked Levi straight in the eye with a newfound passion in his stare.

 “Sit on the bed.”

 Levi, without breaking the firm eye contact, simply gave a small bob of his head to show he had heard and shuffled backwards, until the bends of his knees hit the edge of the bed and gravity brought him to his rump. Eren stayed put, watching and never looking away now (as he would have done in the past) when the older man used his hands to scoot himself backwards and rotate his legs so he was sitting on his knees. He then stilled and waited for whatever was told to him next, fully willing to comply. Levi’s strings were being tugged by Eren right now, a very un-Levi like thing to be happening.

 The boy still standing gritted his teeth together, side to side as part of more anxious habits. He released a shaky breath and rolled the inside of his bottom lip between his teeth.

 “Take your shirt off.”

 It had come out less confident than he would have liked. But Levi didn’t laugh. He didn’t smile or show that he was amused by Eren’s edgy brevity. He simply did what he was told and slowly reached up, fingers popping the first button from the loop. The task could have been done with haste or without passion, but Levi wanted to give Eren what he knew he wanted. So, he took his sweet, agonizing time removing his shirt, folding it somewhat as it was removed and setting it on the corner of the bed. He never broke eye contact.

 Another breath caught in Eren’s throat when Levi’s torso revealed itself. His verdant eyes traced every line, fingers itching at his side to memorize them not only by sight but by touch. The smooth crevices of the other man’s skin were like the lines of some image in a coloring book. He wanted to color them in with his eyes, his hands, his mouth.

  The boy moved forward, bending a knee as he slid onto the bed, the silky coverlet accepting the extra weight. He moved in front of Levi, sitting back on his knees as well. Eren’s eyes had dropped the gaze they held momentarily in the process, but now looked straight into the electrified depths before them as he spoke once more.

 “Turn around.”

 Levi didn’t move right away. He looked at Eren, really looked at him, reading his expression like it was the daily newspaper. And then Levi knew. This hadn’t been a mistake. Eren was the right one to pick for such an intimacy that ignited warmth throughout Levi’s entire being, an intimacy that physicality could never recuperate. So with one last look, Levi bent forward and dipped his head to the right, leading himself in half of a turn. Once his back was to the other, he too inhaled quietly and deeply, closing his eyes. He knew what was coming.

 When he felt the heat of the other right behind him, he suppressed a shudder and sat as still as he could, searching the back of his eyelids as if there might be some sort of novel on them. Eren’s heated breath caressed the bend of his neck then moved up until it was lightly stroking the lobe of his ear. He could hear the near silent pop of lips as Eren opened his again and mumbled against his ear.

 “Show me the real you.”

 There it was. Levi knew it was coming. Now he was the slightly nervous one, breath stuttering against the walls of his throat. He gave a small nod to show he had heard, again, then scooted forward a bit to give himself room. Eren sat back and traced the scars that marred Levi’s back with his gaze. There were a lot of them, but Eren stopped his roving and focused on only two, ones that lay just on the inside of each shoulder blade.

 For a moment, Eren went momentarily blind and deaf. All he saw was nothing, he heard nothing. Then it was over and he was looking at Levi again, but this time it was how Levi really looked.

 Levi’s body was shuddering, his breath was labored. His skin seemed to have a faint ethereal sheen to it. The lines of his body were sharper, clearer. There was radiance about him that Eren couldn’t place, but he knew why it was there.

 Crimson trickled down to the small of Levi’s back, pooling there and sliding further down, staining the top of his jeans. Eren’s piney eyes followed the vermillion trail up the flawed, scarred back. The boy held his breath when he took in the sight that awaited him in the middle of the other’s back.

 There, where the two distinct scars were just moments earlier on the inside of Levi’s shoulder blades, were bloodied stumps protruding from the skin. They were both about half a foot long. Thin, chicken-like skin hung from the lengths of each, white bone protruding from the ends, broken and jagged. The skin around them was enflamed as they seemed to have been stabbed into his back rather than there naturally. Small, soft feathers dotted the bloody mess here and there.

 Unable to help himself, Eren reached forward and hesitated just before running the pads of his fingers over the ends of one of the cut off wings. He was asking for silent approval, and when Levi didn’t make any move to leave, he reached forward and made contact.

 The blood burned Eren’s fingers, but he didn’t care. It steamed against his skin and rose up, dispersing in the air. He gently pushed his fingers against the stumps, lightly feeling them and assuring himself that yes, this was real. He was at a loss for words, skittering his fingers to the base, where the nub met skin. Blood covered his hand, burned it, but he ignored it.

 This was the real Levi. A damned soul. An angel cursed for an eternity with the weight of his crimes. This was his punishment. He had been stripped of his wings and damned to a mortal life on earth. He was a shame to everything he knew. He was ugly, hideous, broken. He was—

 “Beautiful.”

 Levi stopped breathing.

 “You’re so… beautiful.”

 Eren’s voice wrapped around him, filling him up like a glass of water.

 “Your scars, your flaws, everything about you that makes you human and not perfect anymore is beautiful. You are beautiful.” Eren repeated, as if he couldn’t say it enough.

 Levi’s body shuddered and suddenly he was glad he was facing away from Eren as of right now, for a single line of moisture carved a path down his cheek from the corner of his eye.

 

What a little shit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooo yeah this was the chapter that was supposed to be the first for this fic and obvs it was a fallen angel au which is dumb and cliche but IT FIT THE BILL SO I DID IT
> 
> i just rewrote it and hmm, i dunno if i liked my deleted one better or this one but anyways yay! you actually got to see eren this time! also some passionate moments that can still be intimate without smut
> 
> also i'll admit, i teared up writing this lmao, i'm a huge baby
> 
> anyways, i'll probably post another chapter tomorrow, maybe a funny one again to get over this little hill of emotion but i already have an idea and i'll probably write it tonight and laugh at myself like an idiot uvu
> 
> the word count for this chapter issssss ... 1,335! slightly bigger than the last one.
> 
> as always, if you have any prompt ideas, send them to me on tumblr! (vixen-prince.tumblr.com) if i'm feelin them, i'll write them and put them in the fic :o
> 
> and also if there's any extra tags i need to tag or if you think i need to up the rating, please tell me. i don't want this fic to be misleading or harmful in any way. (◡‿◡✿)
> 
> \- kat
> 
> p.s. you know what they say, a writer's writing reflects the writer's views. just consider levi not being the only one eren is speaking to.


	3. Road Trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fresh outta high-school and stopping by Sonic.

 The sky was a gradient array of simple colors, fading up from a smoldering orange into a plethora of greens and eventually navy blues as they stretched across the overhead sky. Eren’s hand slid down the wheel and clicked a switch on his worn dashboard, making the headlights of the old van flick on and give him better vision on the road ahead. A sigh left his lips contently as he peeked in the rearview mirror then over his shoulder at the back of the van, skimming over the motionless bodies scattered there. The lot had all crashed a while back. Sasha and Connie were huddled in one of the back corners of the van, sprawled on a thick blanket as well as sharing one. Mikasa was relatively close to the front near Eren, having dozed off chatting with her adoptive brother. Jean had himself sprawled across the whole middle of the open back space, which inherently pissed Eren off but there was nothing he could do about it and he sure as Hell wasn’t about to wake that asshole up. Lastly, Armin was curled up on one of the couch cushions they had shoved into the space next to Jean. He looked like he was having a peaceful sleep and the sight brought a faint smile to Eren’s mouth. He shook his head and pulled his gaze the road.

 The lot of them were freshly graduated high-school students and had all collectively agreed to go on a road trip together. Well, originally it had just been Eren and Armin. But then Mikasa joined, making a valid point of “What kind of silly road trip would that be if it were just the two of you?”. Though, Eren felt like part of the reason she came was to monitor him in case he did anything stupid. But, she’d let him tote along alcohol so it wasn’t as horrible a situation as he’d thought it was going to be. The lot of them had set off and ran into a couple of friends in a nearby McD’s. They knew the two as Sasha and Connie and that they were in their graduating class, but none of the three had ever really spoken with either of them. The huge white van had set both Sasha and Connie off into pedophile jokes, and somewhere along the line they ended up all lounging around the lobby of Mickey D’s, munching on McNuggets while they talked for a few hours. Sasha and Connie ended up joining the endeavor and Eren didn’t mind much; he’d seen road trip movies where road trippers just picked up whoever wanted to come and didn’t give two shits about it.

 Which is also how Jean came aboard.

 Jean was from one of their rival schools, and Eren knew him vaguely as the asshole linebacker from Trost who wouldn’t shut the fuck up on the field. He and Eren had even had a few disputes on the field before that had to be broken up by the pudgy umpires. So, needless to say, it shocked the Hell out of Eren when they ran into Jean moping on the side of the highway. Truthfully, he didn’t know if he stopped out of genuine curiosity or to sneer, but he’d found out that Jean was being stupid and had decided to leave his house that evening because of a dispute with his mother. Eren had laughed in his face but it was wiped away when Armin told him about their road trip and invited him along. There was then an argument and collective vote as to if they should let him come. Eren lost 3 to 2. He could always count on Mikasa.

 So now, they’d just hit about 470 miles and night was beginning to drift in. Eren had originally planned to stop by a motel the first night, but now he contemplated just driving all night since everyone was down for the count. He milled over this as he drove over a bridge, eyes flicking out the driver’s window to appreciate the way the lovely sky reflected in the ripples of water below. He admired the sight before it was gone and he was surrounded by the scattered buildings of the little town he was passing through. If he drove through the night, they would be able to reach the south coast by morning, which was their current goal. Living landlocked all their lives, neither Eren nor Armin had seen the ocean in person. Mikasa had said she lived near one of the oceans before she was adopted into the Jaeger family, so she wasn’t in the same predicament. Eren knew the other travelers had places they wanted to go, but the ocean was priority. After all, it was originally Eren and Armin’s trip. But, the boy knew he had to be fair to the others too. He figured he’d have them all write their top destination on slips of paper and they’d throw them in a container and draw to see where the next location was. Eren knew that would make gas more of an issue than he’d planned, but he contemplated that they had enough saved up. If not, well, hitch-hiking was always an option.

 As Eren slowed down on a less populated road, he cast a glance at the darkening sky, then the clock. It was only 7:15? Fuck. He’d need to take something to keep him awake if he planned to drive all night. He hadn’t brought any DayQuil or a drug that wasn’t legal, so he’d need the next best thing- a few shots of coffee. On this realization, his eyes peered up at the signs that trickled by and didn’t find much of anything. That made him frown.

 “I know it’s a small town but damn. You’d think they’d have _somewhere_ with coffee…” He grumbled to himself and watched the buildings became sparser until the only thing he was passing was the occasional residential estate or mobile home. Well, so much for that. He’d just have to wait until the next town, which, according to his glove compartment map, wouldn’t be for about another 65 miles. This drew a groan from him. That was too long. He needed coffee no-

_Oh my God, praise the angel._ Eren thought as he spotted a dim Sonic sign peeking out from some trees ahead. Why there was a Sonic out here, he had no fucking clue, but he wasn’t not grateful. Eren slowed the van and pulled into the lot, being forced to park in one of the spaces away from the building seeing as his van was really fucking big. No other cars occupied any of the spaces and scattered trees surrounded the whole thing. It looked dead inside the staff-only building, but Eren noticed a little movement against the shitty lighting they had going on inside. He felt a little unnerved but shrugged it off and rolled the window down, pressing the order button. In waiting for someone to pick up (he wasn’t even sure why he had to wait when nobody else was here), Eren peered up at the sky again and noticed that it had become a dark mockery of a rainbow towards what he could spot of the horizon. Clouds obscured where he assumed stars would be gleaming overhead. Some activity in the corner of his vision caught his attention and he cast a glance out his open window to notice an orange and white tabby cat staring at him with big green eyes, a funny look on its expression, if cats had those. He made a _fssk_ noise at it and it jumped, hissed lightly in his direction, then scampered off into the loose wood in front of where Eren had parked. The boy watched it disappear then tilted back in his seat, causing him to notice the backlight of a word board beneath the Sonic logo sign sputter a bit before it went dark again. He leaned his head against the frame of the van, chewing on his bottom lip in a bored fashion while the sign flickered back to life then dimmed and began to flicker, as if the light bulb inside had a twitch. The words on the board read: ‘ _NOW HIRING C4RHOP5’._ Eren guessed they were missing As and Ss.

 It was in this lifeless moment that Eren himself began to doze but jumped awake, consequently shaking the whole van, when a voice crackled at him through the intercom system on the menu beside him.

 “Yes, welcome to Sonic, what can I get for you tonight?” The words sounded nice but the one speaking them did not. He sounded bored and irritated that they had a customer. Eren swiped his tongue over his teeth and leaned out the window a bit.

 “Yeah, uh, do you guys have coffee? I need coffee.” He reached up and rubbed some of his feathery brown hair between his fingers. He also could have swore he heard a sigh from the other side, but it was probably just static.

 “Yeah, we have coffee, read the menu sir. What kind of coffee do you want?” The voice replied in a huffy tone. Then, when Eren didn’t answer, the person over the intercom proceeded to list off the types of beverages they sold with coffee in them.

 It might have been overkill but Eren ordered two fancy coffee drinks and two regular sweetened coffees. Well, they didn’t come sweetened, but he asked for creamer and sugar packs.

 The voice relayed his order, then proceeded to give him his total before the intercom died out, taking its static with it. Eren fished out his cash and waited again, mind wandering. He wondered who the voice inside the menu belonged to. It was an irritated and flat voice, but it had a husky sort of edge to it. That added interest. And it was deep. Eren twisted and tried to crane his head to see inside the staff-only building but the windows had fogged up a little from the cold exterior and warm interior. All he was able to make out was one dark shape moving about. Well, he would find out soon enough who had taken his order, he supposed. There didn’t appear to be anyone else on the shift and if that were actually the case, the person whom he’d spoken with would have to bring him his coffee.

 Eren didn’t have to wait too much longer, at least, not as long as it had taken the guy to take his order. He realized he had closed his eyes again when a very close and recently familiar voice breathed in his face and caused him to open them.

 “What the fff- eces.” The guy caught himself, apparently having _some_ sense of the fact that he was currently on shift. Eren batted his eyes open and was met with a pair of steely gray ones outlined thickly with black eyeliner. They had an incredulous look in them as they stared right back. Eren blinked and looked at the rest of the guy. Dark hair, pale skin, and pretty fucking short. Piercings adorned his ears, two in his left eyebrow (which was neatly penciled in along with its right counterpart), and a septum half-ring. His lips were expertly slathered with a black lipstick. His eyes trailed down the gaudy bright blue and red work uniform, then caught the guy’s feet, noticing the other was wearing skates. People still skated at Sonic? The thought brought a dumb smile to his face. The dude’s nametag read ‘ _Levi_ ’ in a scratchy, small writing. Well, if Eren was expecting something from this beat up Sonic in the middle of nowhere, it certainly wasn’t an irritable little gothic looking guy with numerous piercings delivering him his 4 cups of coffee.

 Levi still glared at Eren, blinking a few times as if he’d discovered a living dinosaur. “I-“ He started, then stopped. “Why are you here?” He opted for instead.

 Eren looked confused. “Er, do you mean why I’m on the Earth or why I’m in this specific location-“

 “This location, you fuckwad.” Ahhh, so Levi didn’t turn out to be able to hold his curse-inlaid tongue.

 Eren scratched his head. “I don’t… understand? I just want coffee, man.”

 Levi’s dark expression worsened. “Yes, I got that. But you’re young and cute, not old and lost. Nobody passes through here except senile old people, annoying lost families, and the shitty locals. You don’t fit into any of the aforementioned categories, so I’m wondering what you’re doing here.”

 The driver opened his mouth to respond, but stopped and sat there for a moment, as if processing something. “Wait, you just called me cute.”

 The carhop rolled his eyes. “No shit, Sherlock. You’re tan, tall, green-eyed, and got a jawline a bitch could sit on. Pretty gorgeous.”

 Eren sputtered. “Well… you’re… blunt. Um. I- yeah.” He worried his bottom lip and suddenly couldn’t look at the guy. An awkward silence sat for a moment, before Eren fired the guy’s question back at him. “Well, why are _you_ here? You’re in none of those categories either.”

 Levi tossed him a sly look. “Wrong, shitstain. I’m a local.”

 Eren bust out laughing and didn’t come down from it until Levi cleared his throat with a harsh stare.

 “Sorry, sorry,” Eren swiped at his eyes with his thumb, getting rid of the moisture there. “It’s just, how does a guy like,” At this point, he gave Levi another once-over with his gaze “well, _you_ , live in the middle of Podunk Nowhere town? Thought the only locals were senile old people and hicks.” Eren casually leaned against the window frame again, taking on a rather playful tone. Or maybe it was flirtatious. He didn’t know. He didn’t know anything anymore, so it really didn’t fucking matter. He was never gonna see this guy again and admittedly, Levi had a pretty damn attractive face, accentuated nicely in all of his adornments. He just needed to not look so pissed at the world.

 Which is what he did look like every time Eren opened his mouth and talked.

 Levi stared at him. “Guess you thought wrong, again. But I guess it’s pretty noticeable I don’t belong here, huh.” He grunted and his expression flashed something unreadable to Eren. “I’m gettin’ out soon as I get the money.” Levi concluded, and Eren thought he was done speaking, but he wasn’t. “Which is why I’m working, which is exactly what I’m not doing right now.” Aaaaand, he looked mildly irritated once more.

 “So here.” Levi lifted the drink carton holding Eren’s ridiculous amount of coffee.

 The boy in the van had a dumbfounded expression on his face before realizing that he was finally receiving what he’d ordered. He fumbled with his hands before being able to produce the money. Eren set the drink carton on the passenger seat beside him and turned back to find Levi popping some coins from the coin dispenser on his belt. Eren held a bit of an amused smile on his face at the menial action, before telling Levi to keep the change.

 Levi shot him a murderously offended glare.

 Eren leaned back in the seat while the carhop muttered a forced thank-you and began re-slotting the change.

 Eren decided to observe him. Quickly, he glanced to the side and picked up one of the regular coffees, tearing open two white packs of sugar and dumping them in. He didn’t handle that fake shit like middle-aged women and neurotic young adults did. After, he peeled open one of the small cartons of creamer with his teeth and dumped it in, then shrugged and added two more. As Eren swirled the mixture around and relished in the Godly smell curling around him, he recast a glance at Levi, who was still rearranging the money he got to keep. In a very grumpy fashion, might he add.

 “You know, you’re very pissy for someone so young.” Eren commented and sipped his coffee, groaning slightly from the back of his throat at the sweet satisfaction of caffeine: burning, bitter caffeine, resting idly on his tongue before allowing it to pass down his throat. A content ‘ _ahhh_ ’ came from his mouth.

 Levi had finished with the money and was now propped against the menu casually. He spoke “Just how fucking young do you think I am, kid? I’m not fucking twelve. Twice that, actually.”

 Eren choked on his current swallow of coffee. “Holy shit, you’re twenty-four? What the fuck. You don’t look twenty-four.” He narrowed his eyes slightly at the carhop.

 Levi rolled his eyes in response “I’m so flattered.” He paused for a moment and surveyed Eren then looked aside as if what he saw didn’t interest him. “And I’m not pissy.”

 Eren snorted at that.

 Levi glared then continued. “I just really don’t give a shit. Gotta learn not to give a shit if you’re like me and have to survive in Hillbilly Hell ‘till you can get yourself out. That and some of the people here are complete imbeciles. No fucking common sense.” That caused Eren to laugh nervously and reach up to scratch at his forehead. Mikasa asked him regularly where his common sense was.

 “So yes,” Levi muttered “I have a good reason to be pissy.”

 “But you just said you weren-“

 “Shut the fuck up.”

 Eren winced. He took a sip from his warm cup then sheepishly and quietly said “You also cuss a lot.”

 The other looked as if he was about to make another defensive retort, but seemed to rethink it before speaking “You know, in all of this, neither of us has asked the other what obvious questions should have been asked right off the bat.” This got him a confused look from the guy sipping his coffee. Levi motioned to himself then the white van. “You should have asked why I look like I got sprayed with an ink pen and I should have asked what the deal with the giant pedophile van is.”

 Eren considered this. “Well, I don’t think there’s anything we _should_ have asked. I thought our conversation went just fine.” Levi gave him a glare that didn’t look like he was genuinely irritated. “I mean, just- I didn’t ask about you because I think it’s neat to have your own style like that. Looks good on you.” He mumbled and suddenly found something very interesting on his steering wheel.

 Levi didn’t let the poor attempt at flattery phase him. “Yes, well, unfortunately I’m not so considerate and I am actually wildly curious about why the fuck some high-school dropout looking shit is driving a giant ass white van through _here_ at-“ He peered in at the dash clock. “- 8:05 PM.”

 The driver’s gaze followed the carhop’s and his mouth gaped. Holy _shit_. He’d been here for nearly an hour!

 “I-“ Eren started, stuttering. “I’m not a high-school dropout. I actually just graduated, thank you.” He snorted. “And I’m on a road trip with people. All sleeping in the back.” He threw a pointing thumb over his right shoulder to emphasize. Levi didn’t care to look.

 “This isn’t the 70’s, you little shit. Who takes road trips anymore?”

 Eren shrugged. “Guess I dare to be different.” He flashed a grin and it seemed to catch Levi off-guard.

 “That you do.” The carhop mumbled and took a glance down at his skates as he scuffed them against the pavement.

 They sat there in a gentle silence for a few moments, Eren quietly finishing up his first coffee and Levi still leaning against the menu, shuffling his feet around. Eventually, the silence irritated the latter and he looked up, speaking at the same time that Eren looked up at him.

 “Well, I should ge-“

 “Come with us.” Eren interrupted him studiously. Levi looked disoriented for a moment, then as if some cruel joke had been played on him.

 “Are you really that batshit insane, bright-eyes? I can’t just fucking leave in the mid-“

 “I’ll wait ‘till you get off.”

 A quick thought of making an innuendo at those words passed over Levi but he hurriedly scrapped the idea. “Yeah, there’s this funny thing I have to do tomorrow also called work.”

 Eren shrugged. “So? You said you wanted to leave, yeah? We’re going wherever the fuck we want to without giving ten shits. We have alcohol. Come with us.” He tried again, not exactly sure what spurred this. He didn’t even know this guy, Levi. But, oh well. Eren had never had much common sense anyways.

 When Levi didn’t look convinced, Eren did something stupid. He now realized why Mikasa had insisted on coming.

 Eren had set his empty coffee cup back down in the carton, reached out, hooked his fingers in the collar of Levi’s uniform and pulled him forward from the menu while he simultaneously leaned out the window. He brought their faces close and Levi looked uncomfortable, so Eren stopped there and just locked verdant eyes with metallic ones.

 “Come with me.” He breathed, warm breath heating up Levi’s face and mixing with the other’s quiet exhales.

 They sat there for a moment before Levi could feel his ears start to burn so he quickly pried the driver’s hand from his shirt and pulled back, ducking his head and pretending to fiddle with something _extremely important_ on his belt. Just who the fuck was this guy?

 “Yeah, alright. Just wait another hour. I get off at nine.” He murmured quietly, causing a grin spread across Eren’s face. Levi glanced at him and wished he could wipe that shit-eating grin from the stupid shit’s face. “Calm the fuck down and drink your shitty coffee.” Levi muttered and turned around, skating back to the staff-only building.

 Once inside, Levi slowed to a stop next to the register counter and leaned over it, gripping the edge. What the _fuck_? Who the _fuck_? Why the fuck was some fresh-outta-high-school brat giving him weird shitty epiphanies? Fuck it. Fuck it all. Fuck that driver. And his shitty van. And his road trip.

 Levi settled inside the warmth of the building and lamented when he felt a stupid grin slightly quirk onto his black lips. He covered his mouth with a chalky palm and felt conflicted. Damn.

 Nine ‘o’clock rolled around and Levi wasn’t surprised when the worker on the next shift didn’t turn up. He didn’t care, really. He hurriedly shut shit down and changed from his uniform into his regular clothes in the employee bathrooms. Black jeans that made his slim legs look great were accompanied by a dark sleeveless shirt and a fashionable, thin black jacket that had a long tail-back and a hood on it. He slipped his combat boots on belted his jeans up, letting some of the silver chains on it hang down against his thighs. Afterwards, Levi clipped a strip of leather onto his wrist and slid a necklace with a Celtic knot dangling from it over his head. He quickly peered in the mirror and thanked the makeup gods for matte lipstick that didn’t smear and waterproof eyeliner and mascara. Levi reached up and twisted his septum piercing slightly to the right, letting it sit in a more comfortable position. He picked at his hair and when satisfied with his pale appearance, gathered up his skates and left the building, heading over to the white van that had since moved from the farthest parking spaces. That little shit had moved closer and Levi noticed that from the new spot, he had a perfect line of sight for seeing Levi meander about inside. The goth muttered some choice words beneath his breath as he approached the vehicle.

 Inside the van, everyone was still sleeping except for Eren, who was arguably the exact opposite from his slumbering comrades. Eren had managed to down all four coffee beverages so now he was absolutely wired and slightly twitchy. When Levi approached, Eren motioned that he could hop in the passenger’s seat, so Levi circled around and popped the door open for the passenger’s side, sliding into the fuzzy seat.

 He looked slightly disgusted with the ill-fashioned interior, but buckled up all the same and cast a glance at Eren. Who was staring straight back at him. With the stupidest fucking dopey grin of all fucking time.

 Levi squinted and idly buckled. “The fuck is up with your dumb face?”

 Eren laughed, something that sounded not natural and borderline hysterical. “Nothing dude! I’m just excited to have you coming with us. Also…” The teen’s eyes trailed over Levi’s dark-clad body. “You look… good. In that.” He did his weird laugh again.

 Levi rolled his eyes and propped his booted feet on the dashboard. “You’re fucking wired on coffee, shitstain. I’m suddenly not sure if you should be driving.”

 Eren waved his hand and started the van. “Oh, bullshit, I’m a great driver.”

 Levi cocked a penciled-in brow. “That remains to be seen.”

 Eren shrugged and frowned at the crackling of the radio that came in so he opted to plug his phone in and throw something from his playlist on. Needless to say, Levi was pleasantly surprised when he put on a soft violin-piano medley without lyrics. It sounded like some sort of movie soundtrack. Levi liked it and sunk into his seat as the soft violin brushed past his ears.

 “Didn’t suspect you for a classical kinda guy.” He told Eren quietly.

 The kid shrugged again. “Don’t say classical, it sounds like I’m some weird sophisticated rich kid that only hangs out with old farts. It’s not classical. It’s… contemporary instrumental.”

 “This shit is most definitely not contemporary sounding.”

 Eren stuck his tongue out at that. “It’s from a 2002 album.”

 “Not contemporary.” Levi retorted.

 “Is so! It wouldn’t be contemporary if it was like, 1592.”

 “They didn’t have albums back then, you elitist twat. By the way, we need to stop at my place on the way out.” Levi of course needed to keep his fashionable dignity up on this adventure.

 Eren groaned at this. “Levi, the point of a road trip is to have the bare minimum.”

 “Look kid, I don’t know what type of road trips you’ve been on, but th-“ Levi cut himself off from realization. “Wait, you just said my name.”

 Eren frowned. “Yeah, people have those.”

 Levi rolled his eyes and looked irritated. “I haven’t fucking told you my name.”

 “It was on your nametag.”

 The passenger went quiet. Oh. He didn’t know people paid attention to those anymore. “Okay. Well. I still haven’t _told_ you.” Levi turned away, childishly. He wasn’t really sure why he was acting so immature about it, but, admittedly it was damn fun to act like a little shit.

 “So…?” Eren trailed off and glanced at him.

 “So you can’t use it ‘till I tell you.” Levi crossed his arms over his chest.

 “So tell me.”

 A sigh.

 “Hello, my name is Levi.”

 “Yo Levi, my name is Eren.”

 Eren. So that was the brat’s name.

 Levi couldn’t help but hide his stupid grin into his arm as he opted for staring out the window beside him, quietly buzzing with excitement at the idea of all the possibilities that now waited for him out there because of the motherfucker beside him.

 Named Eren.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY SHIT WOW SORRY I HAVEN'T BEEN AROUND
> 
> ok like i was really excited for this when i started it and ahahaha i lost motivation but somehow i got it back??? and yeah here i am wow im sorry for the 6 month hiatus lmao
> 
> anyways i have news on things! first off, word count for this is a whopping.... 4,575!! jesus fuck this was a whole clusterfuck of basically boring. sorry if you were expecting smut :/ speaking of which, when i post the next chapter (which is halfway written) and the chapter after that (which is a 1/4 of the way written) the rating will go up (▰˘◡˘▰) the next chap will most DEFINITELY make the rating go up to m and i might write something quick and not explicit to post after that one before i post the explicit one. but yeHEAH. lmao im just warning u guys that i still have a lot of kink headcanons for these shits so dont be surprised if the smut isnt vanilla. but we'll get there when we get there. (ᅌᴗᅌ* )
> 
> oh, another thing! i have a new tumblr url and i edited it into the other chaps. as always, if you have any ideas or feedback or you just wanna talk or something, pop me a message on my tumblr!! (vixen-prince.tumblr.com)
> 
> um um i dont think i have much of anything else to say except sorry for the kind of boring bulk chapter. this chap was really written from a personal experience rather than me actually having a good idea lmao. dont worry, i think you horny little bastards will enjoy the next chapter when i finish it (who knows when that is, i'll try to get it done within the next week but if i dont im sorry >v>)
> 
> and as always, if you see anything anywhere that makes you think i need to add a tag or up the rating let me know! i will gladly do eeet. thanks for reading!
> 
> \- kat
> 
> p.s. i know levi is really cliche fic levi in this but i just needed a really grumpy pissy goth levi to satisfy my fictional calling ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


	4. The Long Run

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emotions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chap was written with a certain style for a certain reason. if it throws you off, i'm sorry.

It is approximately 12:58 AM when I receive a message from him, and it takes me approximately 6 minutes and 23 seconds to filter through the paragraph with my eyes. My expression goes from expectantly happy to something of blatant disjointedness as I read what he has sent to me. I sit there afterwards in a state of frozen mortification, letting the impact of his preciously picked words sink in. My heart seems to have stopped for a whole 7 beats. I can't breathe. My throat swells. I can't _fucking_ breathe.

 He sits on the other side of his computer, head drooping in his palms, the weight of the message he sent pushing down on him. He feels like complete and utter shit. He is absolutely the worst, the worst friend to ever be chosen as a likely candidate for friendship with someone so precious. He can't handle himself. He wants to hurt himself, throw himself off a cliff and into icy waters in which he will burn. The lump in his throat doesn't go down when he tries to swallow it. He hiccups with the beginnings of a sob.

 My hands shake and my teeth chatter together. I can't move. Everything hurts.

He is horrible. He is horrible for letting the silence drag on for so long. He is horrible for abandoning his best friend in times of need, only returning when he was in need. He is horrible for neglecting his best friend, who has only ever been good to him. He is horrible for picking out when to talk to his best friend and dictating when they did and did not socialize. He is horrible for telling his best friend that he is bored with their friendship and he is horrible for further saying he's been bored with it for just under a year. He is horrible. Horrible. Horrible.

 I feel like I want to cry, I know the right reaction is to cry, but the tears don't come. I don't know why. I know I need to reply to him. I need to tell him that it's alright. I've been expecting it. I have to tell him to not feel guilty. I have to let him know that it's perfectly alright and that I'll be okay.

He miserably peers through his fingers to the screen and see's the message signaling a reply being typed flash under that horrid paragraph. He knots his fingers in his hair and crosses his ankles tightly. He doesn't want this. But he owes his best friend this. Their relationship isn't healthy. He can't keep hurting his friend like this. With this stupid selective negligence of his. He decided on the fly to send the message he did, amongst a quieting conversation. It needed to be said. The explosion of pain to follow, he decided, was better than the slow deterioration that had been happening. He couldn't keep hurting his friend like that, while he got off easy with the occasional guilty thought.

 I'm not okay. I want to hate him. I want to hurt him. I want to dislike him for every word he just told me. I want to fucking hate him for all he's done to me, all he's not done for me, all the times he was never there when i needed him most. But I can't. I cannot hate him. I love him. Part of me has known for a while that this was coming. Part of me has been denying it. Part of me has been scared as this entire thing drew out. The more he drew out admitting to me that the same spark we'd had for so long was no longer there, the worse it became. I think the worst part about it was that he too, was in denial. In denial of himself. I keep typing.

 He was in denial. He knew things were bad. He knew he needed to end the friendship before it got bad. He knew it. He didn't want to let go. He didn't want to let go of the memories, the history they had. There was so much good, minimal bad. He was conflicted and confused and angry with himself. He didn't know what to feel or what to do. He didn't want to make this about him though. This was never about him. It was always about his best friend. His best friend was a gift to the world. His best friend was the best he could ask for and more. He loved his best friend, he still does, even as he tells him it's time for them to no longer be friends. Even as he finally admits that he is bored. Even as he still finally doesn't know if this is the right decision, though deep down, he knows it is. He doesn't want sympathy. He doesn't want attention. He doesn't want to seem innocent or be a guilt-tripper. He wants to be mistreated like he should be, he wants to be fucking torn apart by words like he deserves, he doesn't want to be the good guy this time, because this time he admits that he isn't. He is the bad guy and he isn't the bad guy that turns good in the end. He's the bad guy that frustratingly gets away with his crime, without punishment save for that of his own inner destruction.

 I finish typing my reply. I send it.

 He reads it when it pops into his chat bar. He wants to tear something up. A hot tear of frustration burns a trail down his cheek. Why the fuck doesn't his best friend hate him? How can he still love him? How? How? How? How can his best friend still tell him that they can do this if only it will secure his happiness? How can his best friend just rip a chunk of themselves out and be in severe pain if only to keep him happy? How can they still love him after he's treated them so horribly?

 I break down after that. Staring at the message I sent. My breaths shake as they rattle loosely in my lungs. I suck a few deep ones in as my face begins to wet with tears. I knew this was coming. I'd anticipated it, in a way. I want to hate him. I want to be able to scoff and toss him aside, I want to hurt him and tell him that it doesn't bother me too much. I can't. I cannot hate him. I still love him. I know he's been hurting me but I cannot bring myself to hate him. He is dear to me. I just want him to be happy. He tells me that he wants me to be happy in the next message. There's no way in this situation that I can ever be happy with him also being happy. The only way I can ever truly be happy again is if he becomes my best friend again. If he isn't bored with me. If he talks to me again and he genuinely enjoys it. A small hope inside me flares and wants this to just be one of his emotional phases, but I know it isn't. This is real and this is permanent. If I cannot be happy at all in the situation because the possibility of him returning to me is quite possibly impossible, then I'll do my best to make him happy. It's who I am. He doesn't deserve it and I know it. He knows it. He spews about how much he doesn't deserve it or me in the following messages. Part of me wants to agree with him. A small part. But I cannot truly feel that.

 He doesn't want to break ties completely. He knows he should but he cannot. He cannot let it all go at once. That is too much. He knows it would be the healthiest possible option but he is selfish and cannot bring himself to do it. He is greedy and cannot let go of all of his best friend. A small part of him prays that he will somehow miraculously change his boredom but it is a fact. He doesn't want to be bored with the relationship, but he is. And he cannot change that. And the entirety of that situation is confusing to him. He doesn't understand it. Or himself. He hates himself in that moment, but not out of self-pity, oh no. He fucking hates himself because of how much he has hurt his best friend. He despises himself for what he's done. Because once again, he is getting off easy while his best friend is about to take all the hurt. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He fucking _hates_ himself.

 We eventually decide upon what to do. I know he won't stick to it, because I know that if he does, it will hurt the both of us just as things will start to heal. I know that he'll tell me he'll keep contact here and there, but I know we won't speak after this. We'll stay connected on social media. He tells me he'll drop a message in now and again to see how I am, and I tell him I'm okay with that. He tells me he'll send me packages and perhaps we can be penpals? The thought brings a small smile to my swollen face. I wipe my face with my shirt. He's put me through all this and he still manages to put a smile on my face. I don't know what hurts more, the fact that just casual things he says but doesn't really care about saying to me still make me happy, or the glimpses of false hope he gives me at perhaps rekindling our friendship with those casual things said. It will hurt. I know that. I know it will hurt me every time I see him post a status, post a photo, live his life without me. I know that. I know he'll see mine as well, but I feel like he'll remain unaffected by it, unlike me. He will scroll past, perhaps like it to show his support, then keep going with his life. It won't hurt him like it will hurt me. It never has. He's always had the good end of the relationship. I wouldn't have it any other way.

 He feels heavy. The decision they made isn't the best, in the least, but it will satisfy his selfish needs. When they make small talk for the next few days, he knows he's just prolonging the cutoff. He tries to give his best friend one last good little smidgen of memories before it happens. He knows he shouldn't. He knows he's creating false hope, in himself and his best friend. He wants to think that the talk will motivate him to become a better friend and fix whatever issue it is he has but cannot fix himself. It does not.

 The days we talk are enjoyable, and I hurt as much as I enjoy him making the small talk with me. When his replies start to come in at longer intervals, that's when I know the storybook is closing. When he stops replying all together, that's when I know that the book is over. It's in the days following that I have time to actually think about it. Think about him and everything we've been through. I think about how we met, our best memories. I think about how he's grown and I occasionally wonder if he ever is thinking of me back. Probably not. He's moved on and I know I have to as well. Things aren't pretty in these days. I torture myself by rereading his messages over and over and over and over again. I cry a lot of tears. I begin to stitch myself up only to lose it all again when something tips me. When my family asks about him and how he is, I don't know what to say. Those weeks are hell. I think the worst part about them is thinking about him and deciding that he truly doesn't care anymore, and I think that's what hurts the most. I write him a letter I know he'll never read and post it somewhere he'll never return to again. The thought that it's out there and the small possibility that he might come upon it is what makes me post it. It's a small source of comfort. I conclude my thoughts on the matter in the letter. I admit things to him. I express myself in the words I know how to craft. In the end of the letter, I mention that what we have isn't over in the long run. Half of me wants to know it's true and the other half says that because it helps lift something small from my chest. There's still such a small sliver of hope that he'll come back to me. I'll always be here for him.

 There are a few comforts I find in that time. People, animals, focusing on regularities in my life. I spend a lot of time thinking to myself, driving at night, contemplating and listening to my music. I go through several fits of anxiety but I am strong, I am so strong. I get through it.

 Things begin to get better after that. I begin to let it go and eventually there becomes a day when I realize that getting over him isn't quite as horrible as I'd expected it to be. I see how unhealthy the relationship was and I don't feel so hurt anymore.

 He lives his life. There isn't much to tell about his life in the span of the disconnection to the span of the current period. He lives, he pushes guilt aside when it bubbles up at rare times, and he lives on. Late one night he is up, procrastinating things as usual and mildly chatting virtually with a few people he has no real interest in talking to, but does anyway to sate boredom. He piddles with the internet and something happens to come up that reminds him of... his old best friend. He doesn't feel as horrible about it as he did, because at this point he's just accepted that he's a horrible person in most situations and it's become a known fact to him. He doesn't fight it. He gets curious and pushes further into the archives of the web and find a letter written a few months ago. He knows it's meant for him because it begins with a name that he was called by only one person. He knows he shouldn't read it, he knows it will begin to pick at him and bring back memories of things he doesn't want to revisit. But he's never really listened to what his gut told him to do. He reads it.

 After he reads the letter, he sits there for a moment, contemplating. He doesn't know what to say. The letter did indeed bring horrible feelings upon him again, feelings of self-hatred. He pushes them aside and opens up the text box for a new post. He carefully types out that he read 'it' and that isn't over in the long run. That's all he says for he knows that if it is read by exactly who it's intended to, he doesn't want to tear open what's been healing for quite some time. He leaves it at that.

 After a few more hollow sections of time pass, he eventually cannot mentally prevent his guilt from eating at him once again. He needs an escape, a retribution. He needs away to express himself in a way he knows will never be encountered by that person. He needs to write. So he does. He writes a story about his own horribleness, a story in which he pushes the weight of their tale onto other characters in an elaborately blunt metaphor, a story that is purely for his own emotional output, an output he was never able to express without causing more pain. He write a story from what he figures is his old best friend's point of view, though he cannot be sure if that's truly what was felt in the situation. It's only a story though. Perhaps his perception is all wrong, though he has a strong idea based on the content in the letter he read just moments earlier. There comes a point, however, when he really cannot continue writing from that person's point of view anymore, because he truly does not know how they feel anymore about it. He hopes they've let it go. He hopes they hate him, because it is the best way to keep the pain out.

 The mere fact though, that the letter he read stated that it isn't over in the long run, a letter that was written months ago when emotions were still vulnerable, has him hopeful for a chance at retribution one day. He knows that day is not soon, he knows that he cannot forgive himself and he knows that he cannot face what he's done for a long time. He knows that he doesn't want to disturb the peace that's seemingly settled between them, and he doesn't truly know if there will ever be a retribution. He wants to hope there is. He knows it isn't soon, he doesn't even know if it's possible, and he knows that if there is, it will be a happy rejoice. He wants to hope so badly that it will come some day in the most interesting way possible. Perhaps it won't come. He is selfish though, and wants to think it will come. So as he types on, he writes what he thinks is a fitful ending to his story. It satisfies him for the time being and he feels less emotionally pent up. Now all he can do is live his life from thereon out.

 Time passes and I'm a bit older now. It just so happens that I've been out of town for a while, so the mail is piled up and I have to retrieve it from the neighbor. I go through bills and annoying advertisements of the like, until I reach a thin letter in the middle of the stack with not much on the envelope, save for a piece of small strangely patterned duct-tape.

 It is approximately 2:59 pm when I begin to the read the letter where it says "Dear Eren," at the top and it takes me approximately 4 minutes and however many seconds to read through it until it says at the bottom "Back for Book 2, Levi." I stare at it, unsure of what to feel. A small smile touches my lips.

 Yes, what a perfect ending that would be indeed, Levi thinks as his fingers slowly type out the last word.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> enjoy the horrid levi/eren angst. if i ever get back to the chapter i originally planned to post as 4, prepare yourselves for the rating to flick up to M. i wrote and posted this from my phone so when i come back to it later, i'll fix any typos or anything.


End file.
